


One Day at a Time (Discontinued)

by Anonymous



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Dissociation, F/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: s06e19 I Am My Monster, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Episode: s06e20 The Future, Recovery, Therapy (eventually)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It’s hard to process what happened to him. The pieces feel like a puzzle that doesn't fit together quite right. But maybe he can learn to work through it, with a little help.Steven’s recovery, day by day. Post-Episode: s06e19 I am my Monster. Additional content warnings in notes. Enjoy!
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Crystal Gems & Steven Universe
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Ground Zero

The second the blinding sun forced his eyes open, he could feel phantom pains running up and down his limbs. _Horns, scales, spikes… taller than his house, the Diamonds, the temple._

But… that was just a dream, right? Surely the lock on his emotions was screwed tighter than that. He was Steven Universe! He helped people, he didn’t hurt them.

So why was everyone looking at him like that?

He watched for a moment as the sun glinted off a tear slipping down Pearl’s cheek.

His denial crumbled.

“Did… did I…? I... I’m...”

The words felt raw, grinding painfully past his throat and out his mouth. He tried to choke through another fragment of a sentence, but everyone was just watching him. He couldn’t think. Or maybe he was thinking too much? It hurt. His mind hurt. His body hurt. Everything hurt. He hurt his friends. His _family._ He was a-

Steven jerked backwards as a furry pink face filled his vision. Lion stared at him for a second, looking deep into his eyes (no tears, no judgement, just Lion-)

Then he pressed his nose against Steven’s and drew his tongue across his face. Steven blinked. Then began to laugh.

“Lion-”

His laughter hitched, and he started to sob. Deep, wracking sounds that tore out from somewhere in his heart. Tears streamed from his eyes, some soaked into Lion’s fur, some slid off the Cluster’s hand and mixed with the saltwater.

He fell asleep like that, his face pressed into Lion’s sun-warmed fur, listening to the waves push and tug, push and tug, push and tug…

-

He was in his bed when he woke up. He realized that he never really thought about how nice his bed was. The puffy blanket wrapped snugly around his form, the comfortable pressure keeping his mind lethargic. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating motes of dust as they drifted across his room. He watched as a stray strand of fur settled on the floor, then was picked back up by the slight gust of the AC.

Steven almost felt like a different person. Like he would pull himself out of bed and get ready for school. Like he would rush to eat toast that was really just warm bread. Like he would hop on the bus at the last second and watch the country blur past the window. Like he would sit and laugh with his friends at the lunch tables and learn new things with new people and when he got home at the end of the day he would sit on the beach with the sand between his toes and watch the sun dip below the ocean. Like he would fall asleep with the stars outside his window and wake up the next day and do it all again.

He almost felt content. He almost felt... happy.

The feeling dissipated all too soon as his mind caught up with him.

_Dangerous. Shatterer. Monster._

He put his hands over his ears and groaned, trying to move without hurting himself too much. Anything to distract from his thoughts, from what happened. He turned his neck to the side, wincing as his bones popped. In the corner of his eye, he saw something. He paused for a moment, then shifted, trying to get a better look.

It was Connie. She was sitting on the floor, her back resting uncomfortably against the side of his bed. She was sleeping now, but there were new bags under her eyes.

“Connie?” Steven rasped, his voice still husky. Her eyes snapped open immediately, despite the softness of his words. In a split second she was standing, her posture concerned but her face relieved.

“Steven! I mean, Steven. You’re awake.”

He nodded and tried to smile, but it fell flat. Connie was silent for a moment. Then, hesitantly, she asked: “How… do you feel?”

Steven thought for a second. He felt a lot of things. Fear, anger, sadness, all mixed together into some horrible cesspool of emotion, fueled by things he couldn’t even begin to tackle.

“Tired,” was all he said.

Connie nodded. “That’s understandable.”

Their conversation died abruptly into an awkward silence. Steven felt like his brain had been put through a deep fryer. He could see the hundreds of questions swirling in Connie’s eyes, but he was just so _tired,_ and-

“I… uh, do you want some food? You haven’t eaten anything in... about a day.”

Steven only stared, his mind taking a stupidly long amount of time to even process the question. Connie frowned slightly, but let him take his time.

“Uhm, just some water is fine, thanks,” he said eventually.

It was the first time he had spoken anything more than a single word. He hated how long it had taken him. He was the savior of the galaxy and he could barely even ask for water?

Connie nodded. “I’ll go grab a glass.”

Steven groaned softly into his pillow as Connie left. What was wrong with him? She was obviously worried sick about him, and here he was, being just as pathetic as she thought he was. Steven buried his fists into the folds of the sheets and tried to muster some semblance of confidence, some reason why his massive and embarrassingly public meltdown wasn’t actually all that bad. He tried to reach into some buried pit where something might've once been, but there was nothing. Nothing left to pull from. Nothing left he could say. Connie would worry and his dad would worry and the Gems would worry and they’d all be _wasting their time-_

“I have your water, Steven.”

Connie sat herself on the edge of his bed and set the water on the side table. The liquid trembled at the motion, before settling. It was just regular, plain old sink water. It took seconds to grab a glass and fill it. So why did he still feel so terrible?

Steven realized that Connie was watching his face closely. He managed to summon a small twitch of his lips that might’ve passed for a smile, but felt more pathetic than anything.

Connie turned to stare out the window for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts.

“Steven?” she asked gently.

“Yeah?” he said, less gently and still very raspy.

“Do you mind if I bring the Gems and your dad up? You don’t have to say yes, but I know they’d love to see you now that you’re awake, if you’re up for it.”

 _No, I can’t be around them,_ his mind said.

“Yeah, bring them up,” his mouth said.

She smiled, and it was warm and relieved and for the first time in months he actually felt like a useful half-human that could accomplish simple, normal, human things, even if the feeling was downtrodden by his blatant lie.

Connie didn’t say another word as she padded down the stairs for a second time. Steven tried to gather his thoughts in the newfound silence, but his mind still felt like it was spun with cotton. All his thoughts were slow and trawling, like they were swimming through molasses. How was he supposed to tell everyone that yeah, he had just turned into a giant pink monster, proceeded to wreck the house, the beach, and the cliffside, but he was really, actually, totally fine?

There was nothing he could do. He was stuck, trapped in the grasp of his infuriatingly comfortable bed.

At least it couldn’t be worse than the past few days, right?

He heard the tarp cast over the front of the house being pushed aside, and five sets of footsteps making their way towards the stairs. His body tensed, and he could feel the pink rise in his cheeks. They hadn’t even come up the stairs yet.

He tried to relax, to push down the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. At the very least he wanted to look somewhat composed, so he pulled himself into a sitting position, despite his aching body.

He listened to the sounds of the footsteps plodding up the stairs. The sharp thud of Amethyst’s boots against the wood, the nearly noiseless _pit-pat-pit-pat_ of Pearl’s slippers. Garnet’s surprisingly muffled, but still heavy footfalls. Connie’s sneakers, going just a little faster than the rest of the Gems. And finally the soft _thwip-thwip-thwip_ of his dad’s flip-flops. 

He wondered if his footsteps had sounded more stressed this week. How could footsteps even sound stressed? Why was he thinking that?

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the second landing. Amethyst was at the front of the group, the gentle concern/relief he had seen on Connie’s face also making its home on hers.

“Hey dude,” she said, leaning against the wall. “How ya feeling?”  
Steven thought for a moment. Was there a word for “I’m fine but I’m also not avoiding the question or lying at all?”

“Tired,” he repeated. “But, uh, not horrible?”

That at least wasn’t a lie. He didn’t feel horrible. Just pretty damn close to it.

Amethyst frowned, like she knew he was sugarcoating things. But she didn’t say anything else, just looked to Greg, inviting him to say something instead.

Greg sat down on the edge of his bed, just as Connie had. He rested a hand on Steven’s, keeping it there when he didn’t flinch away.

“Hey Schtu-ball,” he whispered. Gentle. Kind. Loving. Undeserved. “I just wanted to tell you that- we’re here for you. I know that maybe- that, we didn’t really do the best job raising you, and-” he looked away for a moment, “-and we hurt you. All of us. And I hope you know that we love you, but that still doesn’t excuse the fact that you were hurt. I want to do better. _We_ want to do better. And we’re starting now. Whatever you need, son. We’ll make it happen. You deserve it.”

Greg glanced behind his shoulder at the Gems. They all nodded. Connie watched from behind, a small smile on her face.

“So,” he said, turning back to face Steven. “What do you need, son?”

Steven opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He sat there, gaping like some stupid fish.

“I- I don’t know. I don’t- why are you…?” he finally managed to choke out. Greg frowned slightly, but hid most of his concern. Steven knew he had to say something reassuring. Something to make them smile. Something to make them laugh and wonder why they were ever worried about him.

“Why are you doing this?” was all he could whisper. “I’m- I’m a _monster-”_

He saw them flinch at his proclamation, but he rambled on anyways, fresh tears now sliding down his stupid _glowing_ cheeks.

“I hurt you. I could’ve destroyed the whole town, a-and more! I could’ve killed all of you… I _did_ kill Jasper. I _wanted_ to kill White Diamond. Wanted to! I-” his voice cracked. “Why are you doing this?”

Steven hated himself. Hated that he couldn’t spout reassurances like he had done his _whole life._ Now he was just pouring all his _stupid_ problems onto people who deserved to be happy, who had already suffered so much and should be spending their time living life to the fullest, not being dragged down by some sad kid half of them didn’t even want in the first place.

“Oh, Steven,” Connie murmured, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You’ve gone through so much. And I know you feel like you don’t deserve it, but you've lit yourself on fire a hundred times over for us. I think it’s far past time we repay some of your kindness. You may not see it now, but you deserve it, every piece."

Connie brushed a hand across his cheek, wiping away the tear trails drying on his face. And before he could even think to stop himself, he had launched his arms around Connie’s neck, sobs wracking his body like they had just a day before. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry.”

As his tears dripped onto the bed sheets, he felt four more pairs of arms wrapping around his body, holding him up as he cried into the silence.


	2. Missing Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scars. He had scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Dissociation

“Steven? Are you still in there?”

He was standing in the bathroom, in front of the mirror. His neck was craned, trying to get a good look at his back.

_Scars._ He had _scars._

Wide, twin lines of shiny pink scar tissue ran down the entirety of his back, The edges still ragged and inflamed. He touched a finger to it and flinched at the sting. It was still tender.

“You've been in there for twenty minutes now. Is something wrong?”

He barely heard Pearl’s muffled voice. His ears were filled with a strange kind of static. He pressed another finger on the scars and kept it there, the pain seeming distant and far away. He didn’t feel like himself. This couldn't be him, could it? It was someone else. It had to be. It _had_ to be.

“I’m coming inside, okay?”

Distantly, he realized he hadn’t locked the door when he had come in to shower earlier. He’d finally managed to crawl out of bed after three days of nothing but rotting in the covers, and the only thing that had come of trying to do something actually _good_ for a change was _this._

Somewhere past the ringing, he heard the door swing open and Pearl step inside. A thin hand pressed down on his shoulder, grounding him into the present.

“Steven, are you okay?” she asked gently. 

He knew he couldn’t get away with saying he was fine, so after a moment, he shook his head.

“Is… this about the scars?” she questioned.

“You knew?” was all he said.

Pearl looked away, biting her lip.

“We saw them when you… but, uh, it wasn’t important at the time. We were going to tell you!” she insisted hurriedly, “but… there just wasn’t ever a good time,” she finished.

Steven only stared at the mirror. He felt like he should be angry, or upset. But he found himself feeling strangely empty instead.

“Okay,” he muttered.

Pearl frowned.

“Well, um, I guess I’ll just leave you alone now, if that’s okay. Remember, don’t be afraid to ask if you need anything…”

She trailed off, looking for some sort of response. When it didn’t come, she began to walk out the door.

“Pearl, wait.”

She paused.

“Um, if you could…” Steven bit his tongue, wondering why this was so hard. Why couldn’t just say it?

_Please don’t keep secrets from me again._

“Just- um, tell me about stuff like this next time, okay?”

Pearl smiled slightly, the dim light shining in her eyes.

“Anything, Steven.”

Amethyst came to visit later that day. He hadn’t managed to bring himself to shower after all, so he was back in bed. Hair still greasy. Clothes still disgusting.

Amethyst didn’t seem to mind, though. She was sitting in front of the TV, playing something or other on his GameStation. He always liked it when Amethyst came to visit. She never tried to start up conversations, or ask if he wanted to maybe go outside for a change. She just sat and kept him company. It was… nice.

He wanted to tell her about the scars, even if she already knew. It was this strange, boiling need to just _get it out._ The only problem was half of him just wanted to say it, and the other didn’t want to concern her with it. But he was trying to get better. He _wanted_ to get better.

Right?

_If you want to tell her so much, then just do it._

“Hey, Amethyst?”

She paused the game and turned around nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, Steve-o?”

“Uh, I wanted… I…”

_I can’t do this._

“I… do you wanna get some snacks or something?”

He felt like he might throw up if he ate anything.

“Sure dude, That’s cool.”

She hopped off the floor and stretched. “I’ll meet you down there, k?”

Steven nodded, feeling sick. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to disappear. Why did he say that? Why did he say anything? Why couldn’t he just tell her what he really wanted to like a normal person?

He sighed, trying to force himself to stand, but his muscles felt like lead. His mind screamed at him to get up, but he just…

Couldn’t.

Slowy, Steven reached a hand under his shirt, feeling along the ridges and dips of the scar tissue. Still there. Still painful, though slightly less so than that morning.

They would always be there. For the rest of his life, probably. A permanent reminder of what he had become. 

He let his hand fall back onto the pillow. He didn’t know how long it was until Amethyst came back up the stairs, but it didn’t feel like long enough.

“Hey dude,” she said. “You still coming?”

He shook his head, unable to bring himself to say anything. Amethyst’s smile wilted slightly, but her eyes didn’t look surprised.

He swore at himself. Amethyst didn’t even expect him to come down in the first place, did she? What kind of person couldn’t even get out of bed?

Amethyst shifted her feet. “Hey man, it's okay. You just take it slow for now, yeah? I’m gonna keep playing this video game, though, if that’s chill.”

Steven nodded, wishing he was anybody else.

Amethyst sat back on the floor and picked up the controller. “Oh, and,” she said from the foot of his bed. “Greg’s gonna come over to visit in a little while. We’ve, uh, been talkin' about some stuff, all of us, and we wanted to run it over with you, okay?”

Steven nodded again before realizing Amethyst couldn’t see him. He tried to open his mouth, to say anything, even if it was just “okay.” But nothing came out. Eventually, the character on the screen began to move again. Neither of them said anything more.

***

It was nearly two hours later when the newly-repaired door swung open. Amethyst had gone downstairs awhile back. She was now whispering with Pearl and Garnet. Probably about him.

Definitely about him.

Their voices quieted at the arrival of his dad. Steven groaned, knowing that soon enough they would come up to talk to him. He didn’t want to talk (could he even talk...?) He just wanted to crawl under his blankets. Maybe find some hidden world where none of this had ever happened. Maybe he’d ride a dragon. Or eat some cake.

_I’d like that._

Footsteps up the stairs. Soft, sharp, muffled. Did their footsteps sound different? How would he even know?

“Steven,” his dad called. “Why don’t you come downstairs?”

-

Steven was sitting on the couch, holding a mug of tea. How did he get here again...?

Nevermind that. His dad and the Gems were staring at him. Had they said something?

“Uh, could you repeat that? Sorry…” he trailed off.

Greg’s hesitant smile wavered. 

“Just askin’ how you’re doing,” he said.

Steven blinked. How… was he doing?

Well, he was alive. That was pretty good. He wasn’t a monster. That was also good, though not something people would generally consider. He had gotten out of bed, somehow. That was… something?

_That’s three things. Not bad._

His dad was starting to look concerned at his lack of answer, and Steven suddenly realized that he had been silent for a while. 

“Oh, um, I’m alright,” he said, trying to have a cheery disposition about him. None of them looked convinced, but they didn’t press him.

“That’s good,” Greg continued. “Listen, schtu-ball, I wanted to ask you about something…” He breathed in for a moment, gathering himself. “The Gems and I were talking, and after some consideration, we all think that the best option for you would be to see a professional therapist about… uhm…”

Pearl cut in. “Just think! You could have someone to talk to that’s outside of the… situation. And they would be professionally equipped to help you!”

“It’d be like the perfect talking buddy!” Amethyst said.

Garnet kneeled in front of Steven.

“Listen,” she said. “We’re always here if you need help. But we also understand that you likely feel as if we’re judging you, or that you are burdening us. Even though that is not true, we know you can’t help how you feel. A therapist would be a blank slate. Someone whose job it is to help. We all agree that this seems like the best option, but ultimately it is your decision.”

“And if you need time to think, that’s okay too,” Greg mentioned.

_A blank slate…_

It did sound like a nice idea. If it was someone’s whole job to help him, then he wouldn’t be worrying them! But…

“What about Gem stuff?” Steven asked. “That’d be kind of hard to explain…”

“We’ll get them briefed, son. Don’t you worry about it.”

It was a lot to take in (was it?) But Steven still felt strangely detached from the situation at hand. Like any answer he gave would have the same result. But... why not? It sounded nice. Maybe he could learn to stop lying horribly to everyone. That would be very nice.

He nodded. The scars prickled. The sun shone. He was strangely aware of the way his tongue sat in his mouth.

His dad was speaking to him. Something about appointments and referrals and schedules. But he was a million miles away. Riding a dragon, maybe. Or eating a cake.

That would be nice.

If only it was.


	3. Stars Above, Stars Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Releasing this one early because it's a shorty. Enjoy!
> 
> CW: Body horror, broken bones.

Steven dreamed that night. Well, less of a dream, and more of a nightmare.

It was always nightmares these days.

He dreamed he was in his house, baking something or other. The smell of it snaked through every room, filling the whole place with its aroma. Steven was sitting on the counter top, waving his legs back and forth as he had when he was young. He was staring out the window, peacefully watching a game of volleyball between the Quartz. The timer on the oven binged, startling him out of his trance. Drowsily, he scooted off the counter and pulled on the oven mitts lying next to him. He crouched down and opened the door. It was strange, though. Weren’t ovens meant to be hot?

A hand latched onto his wrist, and before he knew it he had been pulled inside. Steven writhed in the thing’s grip, but it was useless in the sudden lack of gravity. He could feel his snot slowly freezing inside his nose. Crystalline shards of ice crept along his skin. In some estranged part of his mind, Steven recalled the warp space.

His hand was beginning to go numb at how hard the thing was grasping. He tried to look at it, but his body wouldn’t move.

Suddenly, Steven was pulled sharply down, moving so fast it made his stomach turn. Tears fell hot and wet from his eyes.

He felt his bones _snap_ as he hit the ground.

There was no pain. Only a sensation of cold, cold, _cold._

Suddenly, he felt a warmth bloom from his stomach. His gem was healing him, Steven recalled. But the bones in his body didn’t quite align with how they once sat. They kept… _twisting._

Sinew wrapped around the points where his skeleton didn’t match his body. Keratin claws ripped through his fingertips. His teeth were sinking knife point barbs into his lip. Something tore from his back with a terrible ripping sound. Muscle and nerves and bone alike stretched and grew and _burned-_

Steven didn’t scream when he woke up. All he did was lie there, cold sweat coating his skin and goose-flesh running along his arms, listening to the TV static drone on, and on, and on...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Stay healthy! <3


End file.
